In the stillness of the morning light,
Where shadows dance and dreams take flight,
The whispers of the forest call,
A gentle breeze, a nature’s thrall.

Beneath the trees, where silence reigns,
The rustling leaves, the soft refrains,
Robert Frost’s words, a serene embrace,
Nature’s poetry in every place.

The winding paths, the hidden streams,
A world of wonder, where sunlight gleams,
In every leaf, in every bloom,
A timeless beauty, dispelling gloom.

So walk with me through Frost’s domain,
Where nature’s voice is never vain,
In every whisper, in every sigh,
A piece of heaven, where spirits fly.